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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973770">Fall On Your Ears</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/becca_the_quiet_one/pseuds/becca_the_quiet_one'>becca_the_quiet_one</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Glimmadora Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of character death, Angst, F/F, Grief, Perfuma is everyones therapist but especially Adoras, This seemed like such a good idea, also her and Scorpia have an oops baby, and I loved writing it, but I think I'm about to get shanked for this, but they're so sweet and in love, self hatred, the AU for my Au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:28:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/becca_the_quiet_one/pseuds/becca_the_quiet_one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She finds the constant eyes on her constricting, though she knows they mean no harm. More than anything, the looks in their eyes are pitious. A scant few of the older guards look at her with resentment, but Adora ignores them.</p><p>She hates herself much more than they do.</p><p>Alternate ending to They Spill, Unfound. One year after Horde Primes defeat, Adora struggles to move on.</p><p>Glimmadora Week Day 2 Prompt: Angst</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora &amp; Bow (She-Ra), Adora &amp; Perfuma (She-Ra), Adora/Glimmer (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Glimmadora Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fall On Your Ears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is not actually part of series continuity at all, I was just really intrigued by the prospect. What's in the original story is whats canon to this AU</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s the nights that are the hardest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She-Ra stands tall and proud, watches Hordaks green eyes fade back to red before allowing Entrapta to jump on him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A situation she’ll deal with later, because the love of her life needs her right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Micah's eyes are sorrowful as she pleads, but Adora sees the twinge of hope in them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When he passes Glimmer back to her, she at once feels lighter and heavier than she ever has, the knowledge of what she has to do crawling forth from some ancient part of her brain that doesn’t quite feel like her own.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She closes her eyes as she presses her forehead against Glimmers rapidly cooling one. She lets the magic, lets her own feelings wash over her as her eyes shut against blinding light.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, I love you, I have always loved you, and I can’t lose this chance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t lose you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She fumbles for Glimmers pulse when her eyes reopen, her own heart beating too fast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She presses her fingers desperately down on Glimmers limp wrist, feeling for something. Anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She gets nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Micah says nothing, head falling to his chest. Bow lets the tears leak out of his eyes as he wraps his arms around his chest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait, let me try again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She throws her head down so fast she hears an audible smack. She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to let in some other feeling rather than stone cold panic. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn’t work.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No. No no no please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adora cradles Glimmers body against her chest. “Please, I can’t do this without you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come back to me.” Adora curls herself around the body, rapidly turning stiff. “Please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She gets no response.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of her own screams wake her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackness fills her vision, and she jolts upright, gasping for breath. She twists and turns in her bed, sheets tangled around her legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hunches over herself, tucking her head between her knees as she tries to take in her surroundings. The sterile, organized belongings around her are at once a comfort and a terror greater than her nightmares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s in her room. She’s in Bright Moon. They won the war, she’s safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glimmer is dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>____________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bags under her eyes are darker than normal the next morning, as she watches Perfuma roll through her morning stretches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma might be the only one of her friends willing to wake up at dawn to do workouts in Bright Moons garden with her, and for that she is grateful. Even if the workouts tend to involve more yoga than weightlifting these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flower princess sighs as she reaches her knees upward, shoulders resting firmly on the ground. Her hands fall limp down at her sides, palms turned upwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From this position, the slight bump of her stomach protrudes slightly more. Adora watches her limber body go limp with relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re watching me, Adora.” Perfuma opens her eyes as she brings her lower body back to the ground, pushing herself into a sitting position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora shrugs. “Looks uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, getting the weight off my feet and back feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Perfuma sighs in relaxation. “You’re more than welcome to join me, if you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not today.” Adora grunts, trying to find the motivation and the energy to push herself off her own mat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma looks at her, eyes curious and yet contained. “Do you need to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adoras chest constricts. “No. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As your counselor, I need to tell you that your feelings are valid, and that you need to establish your own boundaries. As your friend…” Perfuma hesitates. “I’m worried about you, Adora. We all are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time you slept through the night?” She asks gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora stares resolutely ahead, and does not respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you eaten anything today?” She prods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora averts her eyes, focusing on a small blade of grass in the lawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma sighs, and takes a few deep breaths. Adora sees tears in her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think… look, I know how you feel about leaving Bright Moon, but for your health-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Adora shoots her head up, glaring at Perfuma with fire in her eyes. “I can’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another subject of her dreams, albeit less frequent. Glimmer had ordered them not to leave Bright Moon, that finding Entrapta could wait. With a painful retrospective, now Adora knows it’s true. But she hadn’t, not when she’d snuck out that night with Bow and Swift Wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d felt stifled and angry then, not the betrayal she knows Glimmer felt. Not the pain she feels now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're not every the kind of dream that hurts the most. Those sorts of dreams destroy her more than nightmares. She dreams of touches sweeter than candy floss, and of comfort. When she wakes the next morning, to once again find the space beside her cold, and the ball of grief in her stomach growing larger by day-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I couldn’t protect her, let me protect this place that she loved so much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.” Adora shakes her head. “I don’t want to leave, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look in Perfumas eyes says that she wants to press, but instead she twists her hands together and folds them over her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Alright.” She soothes. “We can talk about that some other time. Would you like to try meditation again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora groans, shaking her head. “I’m just… not feeling it today, Perfuma. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s more than fine.” Perfuma responds, shaking her head. “How about we try again next- oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora head whips up at the sound of Perfumas pained gasp. “What’s wrong?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” Perfuma waves off Adoras panic, though her face remains pinched. “She’s kicking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Adora relaxes, before springing back up. “Wait, she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot.” Perfuma groans, her face falling back into it’s calm state. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell Scorpia.” Perfuma says, waving her off. “I mean, we don’t keep secrets, but she’s already so stressed. And she was so excited about keeping it a secret until she- I mean it, came.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princess promise.” Adora says distractedly, staring at Perfumas stomach. “I won’t say anything if you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma grins fondly. “Do you want to feel her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora reaches a hand out softly, before quickly withdrawing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everythings okay.” Perfuma grabs Adoras hand and places it over the tight fabric covering her belly. “You won’t hurt anything, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Adoras voice is soft. “I can wait, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma giggles, and presses Adoras hand down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.” Adoras eyes go wide. “Wow. She’s really-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Perfuma shifts in discomfort. “That’s how I felt the first time too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s an utterly peaceful moment, and for a split second Adora feels lighter than she has in the year since Horde Primes defeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I ask you a question, Adora?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora looks up at Perfuma, who’s smiling down at her belly. “Of course. Do you need something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no.” Perfuma sighs, looking up at the sky instead. “Maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but… listen, as soon as we found out she was going to be a girl, we had a name in mind, but I wanted to make absolutely sure you were okay with it first…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Perfuma says next is lost on Adora. Her vision swims and her eyes cloud over with a mixture of gloomy misery. Her throat constricts, and her veins fill with cold cement as she realizes what Perfuma is asking of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need my permission, Perfuma.” Adora swallows heavily. “You can name your daughter after whoever you want, it’s… it’s none of my business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew her better than anyone, Adora. And we would never, ever want to hurt you with this.” Perfuma smiles sadly at her. “We miss her too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I think she’d be honored.” Adora manages weakly. “And flattered beyond belief.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She manages a watery chuckle that doesn’t sound quite right. “I mean, it’d probably stroke her ego more than anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But she’d adore that kid, whether it had her name or not</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfuma looks at her worriedly. “Are you sure you're okay with it? You’re our friend Adora, and we would never want to make you-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine.” Adora wipes furiously at her cheeks. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I just… I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows Perfuma calls after her as she stands and bolts for the exit. But she can’t bring herself to care.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Adoras not sure who told the Bright Moon guards to watch her every movement, but she has a pretty good idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finds the constant eyes on her constricting, though she knows they mean no harm. More than anything, the looks in their eyes are pitious. A scant few of the older guards look at her with resentment, but Adora ignores them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hates herself much more than they do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Night is her only reprieve from their protection, as when she locks herself in her room for the night, they do not follow. For this privacy she is both grateful and forsaken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lowers the rope out of her bedroom window slowly, listening carefully for any noise. The wind whistles past her window, but the rest of the night is silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping back, she tiptoes across the room to her bed, arranging the sheets and pillows one last time. The lump on her bed is convincing enough that anyone who pokes their head in to check on her would be assured that she’s fast asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ties the rope around the bottom of her left bedpost, before creeping back to the window. Above her is a dark, starry night with a toenail moon. Below, a sharp cliff face and the deep mysteries of the Whispering Woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a long, long way down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grasps the rope tightly in her hands, and jumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her foot catches on the ledge, and she bites her lip sharply to keep from crying out. It sends her spinning down the rope, smacking her side into the wall. She grunts in pain and struggles to keep from sliding further down and burning her hands. She shoves one foot against the wall and presses, stopping her rapid descent. She winces at the recoil, her back bending backwards and her head flying back. Suddenly the Whispering Woods is above her now, and the whiplash nearly makes her sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groans, pulling herself upright and gasping for breath. She tries to even out her breaths as she begins to carefully shimmy down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly sighs in relief when she reaches the top of the turret, releasing the rope and cringing at the burns on her palms. She rubs them gently on her pants as she creeps silently across the walk walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This section of the castle is deserted at night, just as Adora had known it would be. She’s spent weeks memorizing the shift schedules, knows that she has at least a three hour window alone tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shivers against the brisk night. She’s lost count of how many times she’s done this in the past few months, and yet she can never learn to wear anything heavier than her faded old red jacket. She’s tried, and yet she cannot shake the knowledge that her movements would be hindered in heavy clothing, that they would make her slower and her response time greater.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’d be weaker</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She shivers for a different reason, and pulls her jacket tighter around herself. The silence is gratifying and necessary, but it leaves her alone with her thoughts. She finds them much sharper, much colder than the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After they’d retaken Bright Moon, after Adora had fallen into pieces she’s still looking for, Catra had slunk off into the Woods, making some comment about retrieving her things from the cave the Rebellion had been hiding in. She’d really been trying to make sense of it all, Adora knows, and decide if she was even welcome in Bright Moon or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But none of that mattered, because it was not her own things that Catra found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others had waited a while to tell her, still holed up in her room and refusing to come out. It still took weeks, even after Bow had finally managed to coax her into coming down to the dining hall for meals, even after she let herself be talked into meeting Perfuma once a week, just to talk to someone who might be able to help her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’d almost leapfrogged right over all of her steps forward when they’d finally gathered into a group to tell her-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops in her tracks, the same way she has every time she’s done this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moonstone is such a fitting name for the glowing gem in front of her, the way it’s sheen reflects and distorts the world around her in it’s surface, and how it lights her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s never been able to tear her eyes away when she does this, letting it softly illuminate her into existence against the starry backdrop of night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders briefly, as she cannot seem to stop doing, if the Moonstone feels lonely. It’s two holders in the last thousand years can no longer wield the power within, and yet it has not stopped shining since, pulsing in a slow rhythm that no one alive can understand. It’s an inanimate object, and yet Adora wonders if it is lost, adrift without it’s one purpose in life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs, deep and wistful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But her solitue is abruptly interrupted by the fact that another person has entered her vision, resting under the bottom crux of the Moonstone, exactly where she wants to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bristles slightly, before forcing herself to relax. “Bow, I told you I don’t need to be guarded all the time. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” He does not tear his eyes away, but pats the space next to him. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to balk, storm back to her room in a huff regardless of who hears her. But the blanket wrapped around his shoulders looks awfully cozy, and she dreads the climb back up to her room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just a few minutes, she reasons. Then she’ll go back and try to delude herself into sleeping through the night. She slinks over to Bow, accepts the corner of blanket he wraps around her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Catra says hi.” He settles against her, and she is grateful for his warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora hums in response. Salineas is warm and humid at this time of year, a fact Catra is no doubt learning and loathing firsthand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny part of her is smug about that. The rest is just sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the Moonstone cast moving and indecipherable patterns  around and across them. Both keep their eyes trained on the platform above them, the mirrored glass showing them their reflections.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think we’re ever going to stop doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora scoffs. “I haven’t even been able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about going to the actual memorial Bow, this… this is the best I can do, for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had served as a makeshift memorial, until they could get up the more official one that Adora still can’t bring herself to visit. But even after, no one had made any moves to take this down. Not even Micah.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside a crystal sphere is the crown of Bright Moon, and a small wooden figure that makes Adoras heart rend. Two silvery moondrop earrings, together at last, lay inside the crowns circle. Some shattered pieces of what used to be a trackerpad rest below them, and a comb to intricate to have been carved lays over top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only object missing is Glimmers staff, something they’d all agreed should be returned to Micah. He has it in his office now, hanging above the mantle where a portrait of the royal family used to be. She’s caught him staring at it more than once,  with a look in his eyes she understands far too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adoras fingers gently brush the glass. She wonders, for a split second, would the air inside be stale? Or would it have that faint scent of rosy ash that seemed to linger in the air long after Glimmer had left the room?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls back her hand. The scene inside is too precious, and she doesn't trust herself not to do something drastic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bow places his hand on her shoulder. His touch is cold comfort, but she covers it with her own anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember the conversation we had?” Bow asks her gently, cautiously. “Before- when she said she wanted to go alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora falters. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t want us to watch her…” Bow trails off, and Adora watches the words stick in his throat. “She didn’t want that for any of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even you, Adora.” He grips her shoulder. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>not you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she had, despite both of their wishes. She’d watched magic flow through Glimmer, watched it tear her apart before she fell back into Adoras arms. Her mind blocked out so much of that terrible, awful moment but she remembers just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm </span>
  </em>
  <span>Glimmer was as the life drained out of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve listened to her.” Adora finds herself sniffling. ”Or maybe I should’ve tried harder-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adora, can you honestly tell me you didn’t try as hard as you possibly could?” Bows eyes are knowing, but downcast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... no.” Adora blinks rapidly, trying to rid her eyes of the tears growing there. “But I should’ve been stronger, and maybe that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop.” Bow shakes his head. “Adora, it doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to retort that of course it does, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Glimmer died, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he cuts her off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all knew what was going to happen as soon as she took the Failsafe.” Bow says with lamentation on his face. “There was no stopping it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glimmer knew what she was doing and she knew what would happen.” Bow shakes his head. “We can regret and second-guess ourselves as much as we want, but nothing can  change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes... sometimes I can’t remember her face.” He clenches his fists, then releases softly. “Which is so unfair, because I spent almost my whole life looking at her and it's only taking me a year to forget her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But even if I lose everything else about her, I’ll remember this.” He chuckles, a show that doesn’t quite reach his lips. “No one could change her mind once it was made up. She was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>stubborn, and so set in her ways that no one could get her to change, even if it was the two people she loved most in the whole world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adoras heart stops, Bow continues on. The kindness in his eyes slays her. “She was stubborn, and she loved so fiercely that sometimes she couldn’t see past it. But I don’t think she ever regretted it, and she was gonna follow through until… the end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bow looks at her, tears in his eyes but a smile on his lips. “And when she got like that, not even She-Ra could’ve saved her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Moonstone seems to flash in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It tears her down to her bones, rips her open in a way she’d built walls to protect herself from. She feels them crumble now, feels tears slip down her cheeks as she starts to shake violently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you hate me, Bow?” She whimpers, trying so very hard to keep the sob out of her voice and failing. “Because I couldn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never.” Bow shudders at the very implication, and he throws his arms around her. “Adora, I could never, ever hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like putting a bandage over her heart. She’s still deeply, permanently damaged. But it stops the bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you that as many times as you need.” He promises, hugging her tight. “It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not your fault.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora hugs him back, and tries to believe him.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>This time, she takes no precautions to make sure she isn’t followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is not confident as she walks down the stony halls. In the early hours, she can see more clearly the reconstruction efforts being made. Micah's old mural is chipped nearly beyond repair, a hole near his shoulder. It’s unnerving but a comfort, knowing that at  least the real thing is safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angellas mural, with wings outstretched and fingers clutched around a shimmery filamented sword, is unharmed. She pauses here for a moment, tracing the serene and resolute figure, before moving on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further on, on a section of wall still being bricked back up, white sheets cover cans of purple paint. A corner has fallen, exposing a single painted arm clad in a white glove. In its outstretched hand is a firework of etches where Adora knows glitter will be placed. It makes her heart leap into her throat, and she forces herself to move on. She has something important to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d debated for a long time over where to put the memorial. One idea had been to place it inside the Whispering Woods, in the same place where Adora and Glimmer had fought over the sword so long ago. It was one Adora found poetic and deeply upsetting, and it was shot down over concerns of accessibility. With the new and wild magic of Etheria, the Whispering Woods were even more untamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra was the one to suggest the place they had all finally agreed on. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She wanted to see peace. Let her have that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is still barely cresting the treetops as Adora climbs the hill. When she had been She-Ra, and when she had been so fueled by rage and sorrow that she annihilated Horde Prime in sheer grief, she hadn’t noticed the tiny blue flowers that wave in the breeze, or how she can see the very top of the tallest mountain in Snows from here. If she looks to her left, she’ll see Bright Moon beginning to stir for the day. Below them is a valley that’s beginning to show its’ seasonal colors. The hillside is charming, calm, and quiet. It doesn’t connect in her mind, not with the very concept of Glimmer. But as she reaches the very top, she cannot deny that it makes for a devastating effect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for a single terrible moment, Adora is back inside the tunnels under Mystacor, reliving the second worst moment of her life. She watches pale pink and purple strands sway as they turn away from her, getting closer and closer to three glowing towers that Adora can only associate with </span>
  <em>
    <span>doom. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She forces her eyes closed, breathes in harshly through her nose and counts back from twenty. When she reopens them, it’s still a sunny morning in Bright Moon. What was pink and purple is now grey and unmoving. She sighs in relief, but her stomach still turns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the back she can see very little of the statue's features. A stone cape mock-flows behind her, and her arms are not outstretched as they had been on her mural. The block pedestal that it rests on makes it appear taller, the grey-white rock rising well above her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her legs shake as she comes around to the other side, still mindful of the cliff face a few yards away. She watches the statues profile come into view, sees now that it’s arms are crosses over her chest, hands cupped over-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora chokes, and stops in her step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of all the things their friends had argued about concerning this statue, this had been the biggest point of contention. Everyone else had been steadfast, agreed that this was the best way to honor her sacrifice. But Adora had found it too heart rending, too much to handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, as she looks at the apparition that had been magicked to appear glowing, just in front of Glimmers chest, she knows she was right. The Failsafe pulses in a way Glimmer's heart never will again, and it’s almost too much to handle. Adora forces herself to tear her eyes away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t feel right. Glimmer had tried so hard to look composed while she had the failsafe, like she had everything under control and had made peace with her death. But Adora had seen the fear in her eyes, and knows it was resignation, not peace. This statue's eyes are closed, but it’s face is calm and it’s body language is relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t really look like her, Adora realizes with a sinking feeling. Not in the way she remembers those final, awful hours she was in Glimmers life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry it took me so long to come see you.” She gives a mirthless laugh. “But… I’m here, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to get them not to put that on your chest.” Adoras chest heaves with the effort to speak. “Catra got really angry at me when I said that, though. She said… she said i was disrespecting you by saying that, like… like I was trying to forget what you did for all of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I was.” She confesses. “I still am, sometimes, because it hurts too bad to remember that… you’re not here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a few scattered gifts left on the ground. Adora recognizes the single arrow placed at Glimmers feet, as well as the faded and worn plushie in the shape of a scorpion. The bouquet of red flowers is a mystery though, until she spots some familiar cat-scratches on it’s tag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora feels her knees hit the ground long before she sees it. She rests her head on the hard and ungiving stone pedestal, near where a plaque reads </span>
  <em>
    <span>In Honor of Queen Glimmer of Brightmoon, And All Those That Gave Their Life In The Fight Against The Horde.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think about you every single day, Glimmer.” Her voice is hushed now, hardly above a whisper. “I went to visit Frosta the other day, and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>rough</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora shudders, remembering how uncharacteristically quiet and reserved the ice princess had been. “Sometimes I think she misses you as much as I do. And your dad…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She… she loved you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait, Micah-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The King covers his face in his hands as he sinks down to the floor and begins sobbing. “Get out. Please, please get out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora sighs. “He’s having a hard time. I think we all are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every day I look around, and I see things that you wanted, and worked for, and… and </span>
  <em>
    <span>died </span>
  </em>
  <span>for and I hate that you’re not around to see them with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glimmer had guided her, those first few precious months when she had just left the Horde, when everything was strange and terrifyingly new. It’s a punishing constant, when she finds herself throwing her head over her shoulder, with a new facet of life in her hands, Glimmer's name on her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Adora could name a point in her life when her nebulous concept of forever had narrowed down to a single person, it would be the way Glimmer's eyes twinkled in delight, the way she </span>
  <em>
    <span>sparkled </span>
  </em>
  <span>as she explained a world Adora could never fully understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only now, to find Glimmers spot in her life devastatingly empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate… I hate that I didn’t get to say it back.” Tears fall down her cheeks. She makes no effort to wipe them away. “And I hate that you thought you had to tell me when you… when…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora looks pleadingly into the statue's eyes. “Did you really not know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hold no answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adora falls to her knees. “I’m sorry Glimmer. I’m so, so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wasn’t enough, and you paid the price.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In this moment, clarity strikes her sharply, and she understands why Glimmer had fought so hard for her friend's forgiveness, before sorrow tugs her back down again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears slip down her face. The gaping cavern in her chest grows and grows, and she almost lets it consume her. She feels absence in her being, in every inch of her headspace. She misses </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the sound of Glimmers voice to her confident movements to her laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the silence that chokes her, that weights so heavy on her chest that she feels herself being squeezed within an inch of her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stays like that for a long while before rising, shakily, back to her feet. She stares at the statues cold, angelic face and ponders. She grits her teeth, trying to not let her words be her final destruction. It’s not how she wanted to say them, it's not what Glimmer deserved. But they’re going to drown her before too long and she’s trying, for the first time ever, to learn how to swim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she lets herself gently grasp one of the statues outstretched hands and pretends they’re still as warm as they had once been, when they’d held hers tightly as the world disintegrated around them. She stares steely into closed stone eyes, and tries to remember how they had </span>
  <em>
    <span>shined </span>
  </em>
  <span>when Adora had confirmed what should have been obvious, that she could never forget Glimmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets the words tear free from her chest, lets the pain flow free as she, for the first time, begins to think seriously of healing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was already going to write this at some point, it just fit the prompt reeeeally well.</p><p>So yeah, I didn't die yesterday, but I think I might now.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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